


In These Bodies

by kathleensmiles



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Drama, Gen, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1349056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathleensmiles/pseuds/kathleensmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" Wade might of gone to work for another of the bosses had he not been locked up in crazy-town at the time.<br/>Might of at least asked for more cash, but electroshock makes a man desperate and it's damn hard to bargain in a straitjacket."</p><p>Wade Wilson is the go-to muscle for Cable: the biggest, baddest bootlegger in 1920s New York City and the only thing keeping Wade out of the local asylum.  Peter Parker is just a guy trying to make ends meet selling newspapers and dreaming of going steady with a cute gal named Mary-Jane who works as a dancer down in Brooklyn. One night, they're both in the same crowded speakeasy.</p><p>They had no way of knowing what one meeting would set into motion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In These Bodies

_In these bodies we will live,_  
_in these bodies we will die_  
_And where you invest your love,_  
_you invest your life._  
_\- Mumford And Sons, Awake My Soul_  
  
Wade Wilson's brain hummed in time with the jazz trio's music as he leaned up against the smokey speakeasy's back entrance, muscled back sinking against the doorframe as he gazed over the too-crowded club. The establishment's guests all avoided his eyes as he scanned over the crowd, keeping their stares on their feet or their partners, flinching at the sight of his scar riddled skin. They all knew him- or more accurately his reputation. Wade Wilson: chain smoker, ex-asylum inmate, and Boss Cable's go-to muscle. He was infamous for bumping off damn near every competing family in New York and leaving the bodies practically unrecognizable. Folks figured he'd kill them as likely as look at them- and to be honest they were probably right.  He wasn't a guy you wanted to catch in the wrong mood.

Tonight however he was feeling pretty even keeled, at least, more so than usual. The constant buzzing in his ears flowed in time with the pretty little jazz girl's crooning nicely and the voices had calmed down to an unintelligible muttering in the back of his head. Taking a deep drag of his cigarette he motioned for one of the bar boys to send some giggle-water flowing his way. Cable generally let him do things his way and if the big boss had ever had problem with him getting a bit of an edge on the job he'd never said, so Wade liked to help himself when he was in the club. If he was gonna spend the night in a juice joint he may as well get some hooch outta it. The boy gave him a bottle (fella's eyes darting about like he thought Wade might bash him with it) and he took a long swig of the stuff, grimacing. It certainly didn't taste half as fine as liquor used to; back in the days when you could run a club over the table; but it did the trick just fine. He sighed, taking a sort of strange pleasure in the way the liquid burned a path down his throat while he let his eyes lazily peruse the club.

His stare landed on a figure standing off to one side of the joint, looking complacent but uncomfortable in his surroundings as he fidgeted nervously. As Wade stared, the voices woke up.  
**Who's that?**  
_Who's that?_  
**He seems a little out of place.**  
_Oh? I think he looks pretty up against the wall..._ _Albeit a bit...Overdressed._

Wade snarled at the voice, taking his eyes away from the unknown man. However, not much time had passed before his gaze wandered back to studying the stranger. He seemed hardly 25- his face still showing the last traces of boyhood, frame still a tad lanky but covered in lean, rangy muscle that showed under his slightly disheveled jacket. He had a decidedly earnest face, Wade concluded as he stared, looking down when the man's sharp hazel eyes briefly glanced up. He managed to seem all at once a permanent fixture of the bar and a little lost, like he'd woken up from a nap and found himself leaning against the gin-mill wall. Wade found the way the man carried himself oddly intriguing and couldn't help but wonder what he was doing in Cable's joint. He certainly wasn't in their business; his attire consisted of apparent hand-me-downs that, while respectable, were distinctly middle class. Nothing about the stranger indicated that he ran in these sort of circles and he didn't seem to be the spoiled-rich-and-looking-for-a-good-time type most of those flapper dolls tended to run around with. He didn't look to be particularly unhappy but he certainly wasn't enjoying himself; the bottle in his hand was almost full and the boy took only slow sips from it.

The mystery was resolved when he was approached by a red-headed dame in a worn, but sparkling little silver number who smiled at him and led him dancing into the crowd while he laughed. Wade thought he recognized her as one of the local gals Cable hired as a hoofer down at the dancehall; Mary something-or-other. She was quite the dancer, might of been a Ziegfeld girl had Cable not caught her on the down-and-out and hired her- as was Cable's way. Even Wade might of gone to work for another of the bosses had he not been locked up in crazy-town at the time. Might of at least asked for more cash, but electroshock makes a man desperate and it's damn hard to bargain in a straitjacket. He took another swig of his liquor with a scowl. The buzzing had fallen painfully out of time with the band and the voices were chattering incessantly about the stranger that Wade couldn't help but watch as he moved through the room. That stranger dancing happily with that damn broad was starting to leave him feeling more than a little disconcerted. There was a throbbing starting in his head, a hollow feeling beginning in his chest that seemed wanting and vaguely disappointed. He chuckled bitterly and downed the rest of his drink, grimacing.

With feelings like that, maybe he should have stayed in the asylum.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey- thanks loads for reading! I really hope you enjoyed that.  
> That was only a brief intro to what I hope will become a 3-5 chapter story- if you're interested. The full story would contain violence, sexual content, language, psychological horror aspects and gore.  
> Don't want to spoil my possible plans, but I am excited about the idea, so please give me some feedback and let me know if this is something you'd like to read more of ^_^  
> Thanks and have a great day!


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